From The Beginning Chicago's Unforgiving Streets
by Optical-Illusionist
Summary: A prequel to Chicago's Unforgiving Streets!  Eventual Dark Edward; VERY OOC.


The breeze felt nice against his heated skin, the very essence of a summer night radiated from the air surrounding him, bringing a fresh coating of sweat to his brow. Wiping at it uselessly, he watched the people walk across the crowded street, protective bubbles surrounding their figures among the street walkers, and drug dealers. He noticed an average height man standing near the entrance of the _Exotic Inn,_ the cheapest motel in the area, watching his watch with rapt attention.

The man nervously wiped the imaginary dirt from his khaki pants as a petite woman with hair that reminded Edward of the orange crayon his mother had once brought home for him, from the small package, walked toward him. He decided he liked that color. She was wearing a black tight cotton tee-shirt stains littered the front, she was sickly thin; hip bones jutting out from the top of her too large jeans, as her shaking hand touched the man's arm softly.

Edward smiled as the man jumped, not expecting to feel skin-to-skin contact, though a smug smile erupted across his wide-set face, before pulling her inside the room, with one last look out toward the street.

"What have I told you about sitting out here at night," a voice called out over the yard, Edward jumped up and ran to the woman's form, "Momma!" He cried. Her arms encircled his waist, pulling him tighter to her bosom, a dreamy smile danced from corner to corner of her lips. She opened the creaking gate, making sure to step over the fallen debris in the walk way as she made her way back to the building, her three-year old son settled in her warm embrace, "Honey," she whispered sweetly. He loved when she spoke to him like that, "Yes Momma?" He looked up, his momma's face looked different in the moonlight, apprehensive even, "Di-Did Ed kick you out, baby?" He nodded, pulling on the chain around her neck, "Maggie came over!"

He pouted, his large green eyes became wetter, "She tried to give me candy, but Ed told her not to give me squat!" She nodded, he felt her arms tighten around his waist, "I'm going to go check inside for a sec, okay bumblebee?" She put him back down on the step, walking forward with her eyes closed in thought, he picked up a stick pulling apart the bark, and she opened the door slowly.

Her mouth opened in shock as she saw her husband bending Maggie, their mutual friend, over the small kitchen table, the same table Edward ate on every morning, "Ed!" She yelled angrily, he looked over as did Maggie, though his grip on her hips did not relent, his thrusts became frantic for release. He groaned loudly one last time, before he pulling his flaccid cock from her shaken form, she pulled her light denim shorts up her thighs without looking into the other woman's eyes.

"What, Elizabeth?" He asked unhappily, his hands busy pulling up his too-tight jeans, his light blonde hair shone dimly in the light emitted by the single light bulb, "Damn that was good, Maggie. Come over again soon?" She nodded, Elizabeth just watched with disgust written across her face, "Our son was sitting outside while you had sex with her?" Maggie made it a point to leave, all but running from the room; Elizabeth pretended not to notice how her husband's eyes followed the woman's form as she left. He shrugged, turning toward the small kitchen for his hidden stash, rubbing his nose with the back of his hand, effectively tuning her out, she sighed sadly.

Maggie ruffled Edward's hair as she walked through the creaky gate, he smiled up at her with his face covered in dirt, explaining to her retreating form that he was an Indian; giggling madly as she tripped over a rock, before walking faster toward the end of the street. Edward grabbed the stick from the ground, swinging it toward the tree in an effort to thwart its sinister plan!

"Hooyah!" He cried in victory, as his opponent signaled his defeat, his arms twisted happily around his head, before a hand grabbed his wrist he looked up to see his Momma's face, all happy thoughts left his mind. "What's wrong, Momma?" He asked her softly; she tried to smile but failed as tears began to flow faster down her cheeks, "Momma?" He asked again. She touched his hair faintly, a sad smile marring her face, "I'm fine, dear, just fine."

She wrapped her hand around his wrist, pulling his form along in step behind her, watching the street for anyone who might see them, "Stay with Momma, Edward," she whispered into his ear. He nodded. She made her way toward the motel that he had been watching earlier, his feet began to drag against the ground with her pulls, intense and persistent.

They crossed the now abandoned street, old-junk cars lined the edges; broken down, parts missing from their makeup, reminding Edward of puzzles that had lost its pieces. His eyes were drawn toward the _Exotic Inn, _its brick walls were hard to see in the darkness, a woman looked up to see Elizabeth and her son approaching, she put down her cigarette quickly.

"Elizabeth? Why are you here? I thought you started at midnight?" The woman's brow furrowed, her bleach-blonde hair tangled into knots, makeup smeared underneath her lashes. Elizabeth shook her head, nodding in the direction of her son, who watched the woman with wonder written across his angelic face, her hair was so bright! She nodded in understanding, kneeling down onto the concrete, to his level, "Hi honey, I'm Charlotte! What a cutie you are, the girls will just eat you up," She whispered, as if telling a secret, her too-tight blouse had ridden up her mid-section revealing a faint line of scars.

Elizabeth's eyes shimmered, glowing with a pain Charlotte understood perfectly, she took the woman's hand in hers. Elizabeth could feel her fingers tingling from the contract, running her index finger across the other woman's palm, accidentally, Charlotte inhaled, yanking her hand back. Elizabeth blushed, running her hand across her face in embarrassment.

Edward grabbed at a weed from the sidewalk, picturing a meadow during spring, like he had seen in a movie Ed had watched. Edward hid behind the couch while his father slept, his head leaning over the edge, and what he saw captivated him! The flowers bursting from their elaborate casings, butterflies fluttering from the sky, seemingly endless against the horizon; hundreds, thousands of them. Flying toward the same destination, all in perfect unison; clouds of cotton candy hid the sun, watching for the perfect moment to release its glory upon the meadow. He was brought back to consciousness by a hand grabbing his, pulling him into the motel, and slamming the door shut in their wake.

"Mary won't be happy you're staying here, Elizabeth," Charlotte whispered, the lighting inside the motel was abysmal; a yellowish tint covered everything they saw. She pulled the hem of the off-white shirt down over her mid-drift, ignoring the wandering eyes of the men still located in the main room of the motel, whose eyes lustfully watched each woman as they passed by. The sound of a near silent clanking of worn, black boots across the linoleum floor made Charlotte's skin crawl; she braced her back for the touch of his hand, his wandering hand.

"Hey, Charlotte, you workin' tonight?" His voice was heavily accented with his nightly glass of whiskey and the soft southern hue that could be traced back to the backwoods of Mississippi. He wore his classic dark-washed Levis, tight against his body, with a seductive red button down shirt. Sun-bleached blonde hair fell from his cap; an all around southern appeal surrounded him, causing him to stick out among the northerners.

"No, Darryl, it's my night off," Charlotte replied, her voice barely audible over the whispers from the surrounding patrons and their companions who were engrossed in conversations of lust, again she pulled at her shirt. Darryl's eyes traced the path down her body, the hair on Charlotte's neck began to rise with every glance from his eyes, and a small smirk-like smile overwhelmed his wide, tanned face.

"That's too bad, maybe we can get us in a night cap, what'cha say 'bout that?"

"I _said_ it's my night off, buzz off Darryl."

"Oh come on, Charlotte, don't be like that."

Elizabeth watched the exchange silently, her hands buried in Edward's thick copper hair as he laid his face upon her thigh, his eyes closing with each breath he took. His mind was racing with thoughts of butterflies, bursting from their casings like he would do one day, hopefully there'd be a meadow waiting for him, where he can release _his _glory upon the beauteous garden of the unknown.

_(Ten Years Later: Edward is fourteen)_

"Come on, Edward, pass the damn ball!" A young voice called over the still street, the voice's owner wiped at the sweat on his tanned forehead; his too large pants hung off his form, watching the other boy's erratic movements with the ball in aggravation.

"Wait, Mark, just wait," Edward replied, his eyes locked on the house across the street and the thin man who exited, his arms covered in blood leaking from the crevice of his elbow. The boy's heart began to pound; he threw the faded orange ball to the younger boy in a rush to get across the street, as his feet bounded across the asphalt. All he could hear was the constant _thump _of his sneakers as he pressed on, his eyes were again locked on the house across the street but this time it was the sickly thin woman exiting the tiny one room home that caught his attention. _Mom, _formed on his lips, she looked so different.

"Hey! If you leave now, I'm keeping the ball," Mark screamed excitedly, his hands all ready itching to make away with the prized toy, he paused for his friend's reply, after hearing none he high-tailed it down the block. Where he was heading was a mystery, it seemed that Mark never had a stable place to stay. Edward watched with dismissal written all over his face, his own hands itching to open the rusted gate, to reach in and grab his mother into one of her hugs. Those hugs that seemed to swallow him whole, hiding him away from everything; buried beneath the endless layers of her love. She stumbled about, not taking her eyes off the man's thin figure, "Ed where's it at?" She called to him, her voice was hoarse; her eyes were frantic, desperate in their search for her drug. The words never left his parted lips as his parents descended back into their hovel; closing themselves off from the world.

After a few more months, it had gotten to where he was invited back into the house; leaving the Exotic Inn, to stay with his parents. This was a routine Edward followed for years; random and sporadic conversations with one of his parents would enable him to come 'home.' Though, his room at the Exotic Inn was still his, or so Miss Charlotte had said, yet she believed that his stay with his parents was not going to be permanent; she prepared him for the worst.

His parents would frequently forget about his presence in the small home, locking themselves in the back room for days at a time, while he faced the outside world in search of what he needed; he had never been to school, instead, through his mother's earlier lessons, he eventually taught himself to read at the age of six.

He spent his free time searching through the hovel; looking through his father's dirty magazines, frequently displaying pictures of barely covered women, in various sexual scenarios – one image stayed with him for years, it was displaying what _not _to do when Dominating a woman, the man's hands were buried in the woman's hair as she sobbed around his erect cock. Her body littered with welts and bruises; it excited him. He was fourteen when he first witnessed it.

Edward remembered the moment when everything changed, he had been with his mother in their small home, playing with his clay when Ed barged in, demanding to see 'Lizzie,' as he had taken to calling her, in the back room. She ruffled his hair playfully, reminding him to put his clay up when he was all finished, so it wouldn't dry up. He smiled at her, telling her that he would put it up the very second he was done playing, and then he would go sit on the stoop, to watch the fireflies dance. She paused a moment, taking in the innocence that seemed to surround her son, their son. She walked toward the backroom, the feeling of fear barreled through her veins; He never demanded to see her while Edward was up, that was one of his _only _redeeming qualities.

The open door allowed her to see into the cramped room, only large enough to fit a twin sized mattress and a small table that Ed frequently used for divvying out coke lines, which currently held two long white lines, they seemed to twinkle in the minimal light. Ed's smirking face met hers, "Lizzie, you're always so up-tight; I've decided to get two bags tonight. One for you – One for me," he whispered, "Isn't that sweet of me, Lizzie?"

She nodded, fear clung to her every pore, "Ed that is very nice of you to do. Why don't you just keep both bags, I will even sit with you while you do them, enjoy yourself, baby," she paddled across the wooden floor, which felt cold beneath her feet. It soothed the heat that began to rise in her, as her heart started to increase the blood flow, the pounding in her ears got louder, "Oh no, I got this for you. You're going to do it, be a good girl, Lizzie." His eyes became hard, playfulness gone so quickly she was surely hallucinating, "Or, I might have to rough the tyke up a bit," his definition of _rough _frightened Elizabeth, using Edward to his advantage, he baited her closer to the table.

"That-a-girl, now sit on the floor. Take this," handing her a rolled up bill, she took it within her still shaking hand, his hand reached forward and grabbed hers, placing the straw to her nose, "Now take it up through the bill, as much as you can. Understood?" She did as he asked, time seemed to pause as she eyed the still sparkling drug, her mind still not comprehending that everything was to soon change; for good.

"Lizzie, hurry up!" She jumped forward, startled, taking the drug up through the rolled up bill, she felt dizzy as it hit her nose, numbing her senses completely. She figured that she wasn't through, by the looks of how much was still left on the table, "How does it feel, baby?" She watched him watch her, "Numbing," he nodded happily.

"All ready? Man, this must be some good stuff. I'll let you have a little break, and then you can have the rest," he said excitedly, taking the bill in his hands, putting it up to his own nose and repeating the process she had just done, though he seemed excited about his line. She watched him through hooded eyes, feeling the onslaught of tears behind her eyes; she knew it wouldn't be the same. With how much he's giving her, she wouldn't get away without any strings attached; she could all ready feel the despised drug flow through her senses. She would become one of those women she hated, addicts, with children. She felt Ed shaking her hand, attempting to get her attention, pointing to the rest of her line.

Numbly, she handled the seemingly fragile bill, gently, pulling her face to the table hating herself for her actions, for being weak. Ed placed his rough hand on the back of her head, encouraging her further; she watched herself take one last hit, the powder hitting her nose and with resignation, slumped against the table as her body quaked with silent sobs. No strings attached; _addiction. _


End file.
